


They bend: a Discovered on a Midnight Clear story

by tango65



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:09:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tango65/pseuds/tango65





	They bend: a Discovered on a Midnight Clear story

The wind tore through him as he raced through the deserted streets – snow whirling in flurries like mini tornadoes, battering his face, making it difficult to see, let alone catch their quarry. Markham was a nasty drug dealer who preyed on the young and immature, and who had somehow managed to evade the noose as CI5 has surrounded his base of operations. Only luck and his partner’s eagle eyesight had picked him up as he escaped on foot. Bodie lost track of his partner in the blinding snow and only the sound of pounding feet kept him on the right track.

  


Bodie blinked to clear his eyes and then there was no time and he had run into his partner, recognised by his plaid jacket, nearly flipping over the top of him as they collided.

  


“Ooof. Doyle, what the hell?” Bodie proclaimed, taking a moment to catch his breath and exclaiming his confusion and aggression in that one quick question. With adrenaline coursing through his veins after the long chase and the cold suffusing his bones, he had no patience and moved to take up the chase again, when he realised that things were not well with his partner.

  


Doyle was still bent over, snow soaking him and the water dropping like small waterfalls from his hair, whilst also gasping for breath. As Bodie moved forward to check on his partner, he also noticed their quarry, lying at his partner’s feet. Impressed despite himself, Bodie was about to make a rude comment about being unfit, when Doyle bent even further, and slowly crumpled across their quarry, without a sound.

  


He landed face up and Bodie was horrified to see an evil looking knife protruding from his partner’s shoulder, his blood mixing with the snow and rolling down his partner’s arm to pool on the mushy ground. Quickly grabbing his RT and calling for assistance, he slowly and gently moved his partner away from it’s unexpected resting place, taking great care not to touch or move the knife.

  


A quick glimpse at Markham noted him laying still on the ground, with his head at an unnatural angle and his eyes seeming to look beyond this world, to who knew what. Bodie didn’t care to imagine and he wasn’t about to have his partner viewing the same sight either.

  


He quickly grabbed the jacket and jumper from the dead man, carefully wrapped the knife wound and placed the jacket around his partner and the wound, in a small attempt to keep him warm. Lifting Doyle’s head off the cold, hard, ground, he laid it to rest again on his lap and grabbed Doyle’s hand on the uninjured side – hoping that some of his limited body warmth would also help. Leaning his head over his partner, to try and keep some of the worst of the weather away from the pale, still face, Bodie began muttering quietly to his unconscious friend.

  


“Wow, Ray, you really did it this time,” he started. “You took him out, but you were supposed to do that before he got you.” Bodie took a breath as his voice faltered and threatened to stop altogether. The sound of sirens and the call of his name drew his attention for a moment, but he quickly returned to his partner’s face when he felt his partner’s return to consciousness.

  


“Ray, Ray, hold still”, he urged his partner, as wild eyes sought something to help him centre. His partner’s voice did the trick, until the pain washed over him like a tsunami, taking him down again into the cool, welcome dark.

  


Bodie’s panic increased dramatically as he frantically sought his partner’s pulse. Finding it regular, if not strong, he looked up to find the paramedics approaching quickly. “He’s alive” he gasped out, before he gave way to them, his hand being drawn from his partner’s still one with great reluctance.

  


The paramedics moved quickly to get their patient stabilised for transport and Bodie joined them in the ambulance, only then realising that he had spoken and been spoken to by his boss and others and not being able to remember a word that was said. As the ambulance moved, Bodie barely heard the sirens wailing, hunched over his too still partner, willing him to open his eyes, willing him to stay with him…….

  


It was taking too long, Bodie thought as he continued to pace the length of the corridor. He had been banished at the doors to surgery and he was left to pace and worry. His frustration and anger and worry built with every step, until he was ready to take out the building if he didn’t get some news soon. So immersed in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear anything until he turned and nearly ran into the surgeon. He stopped, his eyes wide and filled with fear.

  


“He’s going to be OK,” the surgeon spoke to the concern coming out of Bodie’s every pore. “He lost a lot of blood, but it didn’t hit anything vital, so he’ll be fine.” Bodie nearly collapsed, so complete was his relief. “What will his recovery time be?” asked a familiar voice behind him. Bodie turned, shocked that he hadn’t heard his boss approaching either.

  


The surgeon also turned. “He’ll be out of recovery in a couple of hours and then here for a few days for monitoring. Then home with a sling for two weeks – as long as there is someone to look after him?” He addressed the question to both men. “Yes, of course” from Cowley was echoed with vehemence by Bodie, whose look told his boss that it was Bodie’s job – come hell or high water.

  


Doyle moved restlessly. Something was wrong. He was in pain, which if he thought about it wasn’t too unusual, but he couldn’t move his arms and nothing felt familiar. After opening his eyes slowly and blinking to clear them, all was made clear. At least where we was, and the how was coming back to him now too.

  


Looking down at his arms, one was tightly bandaged and in a sling close to his chest, which at least reassured him a bit about the thumping pain he could feel in that shoulder. The other attached him to various machines and fluids, but most importantly, attached him to his partner. It was dark in the room and his partner was asleep with his head on Doyle’s lap, with his hand firmly wrapped around his partner’s.

  


Doyle watched him for a while, with a small smile – noticing the handsome features at rest, but also noticing the new worry lines and paler that usual skin. “Must have been bad” he thought. A tentative squeeze of the hand in his, brought Bodie up fast, blinking his own eyes as he woke from his sleep. “Hey” Bodie said sleepily, “you’re back.”

  


“Can’t keep a good man down” Doyle replied with a small smile. Bodie smiled in return. “I plan on making a down man good” he replied which caused Doyle to snort and then wince in pain. “Hey” said Bodie as he stood up to assist his partner past the pain, “don’t make my job any harder that it has to be.”

  


Doyle took a deep breath and settled again, much more comfortable now he knew he was OK and his partner was with him. He smiled. “Your job is hard?” he questioned, “what about my job – having to feed you, care for you, cover for you…..” “Cover for me” Bodie retorted with a broadening grin, “more like the other way around.”

  


Cowley moved away from the door to Doyle’s room as the argument continued on behind him. He wasn’t worried. His men might bend, but they never broke, not while they had each other.


End file.
